A Crack In the Crown
by griffin-girl3
Summary: Draco writes as he sits at the manor ocean side on a breezy night. His heart is racing and he is finally writing what he fears could be the revelation of his last summer..he's reflecting and learning more than he thought he'd ever wanted to know. Being cu
1. Take My Security from me

I walked along the glowing moor. I've never appreciated the ocean's breeze. Honest...I've never appreciated anything in life. I suppose I should tell my full throttle summer to you. So I will. Brace yourself...its not pretty. I've spent practically all of my summer nights wondering if it'd be okay if I just left today. Maybe what I said was wrong...I think about it a lot.

But with your life planned, that's a given to occur, right?

I don't fancy diaries or journals, I never have. In fact...the only reason I'm writing this in the dead of night with my feet in the cold sand it because...Well...I guess I'm trying to learn who I am. I don' t mean who I am at school...who I am to Father- Potter - Fudge -Voldemort...anyone. This is my life. And this is me, Draco Malfoy, as real as I have learned to be.

I don't know if my summer was meant to turn out this way. I mean...it started out cursed. No other word can fit there. I felt like bloody hell for a good month, granted. I don't know why either. I thought about how I'd tried to beat up Potter. How he got Father in jail, and if that was good or bad. I'm dead if anyone reads this, but who gives a fuck? I'll end up dead either way. I 

really do wish I could say that I'm alright with that fact...but in all honesty, I despise my father for thinking I'll accept it and for playing me along like that when I was a boy.

I don't and wouldn't dream of expecting you to understand what it was like for me growing up. 

Perhaps that's why my characteristics include cold and ruthless? Yes. Well, I'm working on that right now. You know, my father raised me not to love anything. He succeeded. Which, the only thing I can think of that being a good thing: 1) I won't fall for that horrid cow Pansy and 2) I won't lose someone I love like Potter and the others...But then again, I'm missing out. All the experiences everyone are going through day and night are passing me by and nobody knows. Nobody is coming back to save me.

Mother tries and tried to postpone my becoming. She knows that by next summer I'm a gonner. I cannot be sheltered and hidden forever. Its not a comforting thought I must say. I'm deprived of any feeling of security. I've given this much thought. I hate with a passion, the ideal

of becoming my father's shadow. Given, it wasn't as if I've ever had a choice. I was born and raised to be as cold and bitter as they come. Come to think of it that sounds exactly like a description of my pathetic characteristics. Which my mother above all has noticed.

Which is why, I say, she's trying to save me in the only way possible. She must think me scared of the unknown...That or she's just hanging on to me. Her lonely, cold, sheltered but harshly real baby boy.

I remember...like a month after I'd learned about Harry Potter's story. (I was what? six? four?) I asked my mother if she'd die for me, had Voldemort come after us. She smiled lightly and patted my head. "My son, that is the great part of what we do! Lord Voldemort protects us!

He is-" "Narcissa." My father had said firm and angry. She looked down and turned crimson. He looked at me with those same dull gray eyes that I inherited and smiled bitterly.

"Don't ask such questions, Draco," he'd said. He bowed slightly and left. 

I remember that memory like I remember my name. Speaking of names...the name Malfoy. I know I'm associated with being rich (greatly thanks to my father) and that comes with power or whatever. I say it comes with boundaries of persuasion. I once told that to father who actually laughed and said I was theoretical. I told my Mum that later on that same day...she started crying and told me to go to my room.

I don't think I'll ever recover from the live I've never gotton to live. I feel like I've got an invisible wall...like. If anyone approaches me, they're in line for doom. I wish I could gear my behavior at home and school to be more...I don't know what to say...more, real, lively... to be one of the living. I'm tired of thinking this can't be happening. I must be somewhere in between...is this real or just a dream? I don't approve or take pride in the way I act at school. I know you're thinking "Change!" but its not that simple. Its not possible to change the way you've been for six years just because you finally realized you were living a lie. I feel like I've been pretending.

I'm going to focus all my mentality and energy on who I really want to be and who my father perceives me as....I've got to. This is my final chance. I can't be anything I want to. I can't lose sleep over this anymore. My cold bitter heart is reaching its end. Its begun to race and I can no longer sit still. This is over my head but underneath my feet and it is forever beating in my heart. You know I wish it was that easy...Money can't spare me or hide me...since when has money been able to cure a black heart?

I'd write more but the sun is vastly arising over the ocean blue...it reminds me hopelessly of my own uprising...and how someday...I hope it won't be so surprising.

// I really hoped you all liked it because I thought about it for a long time. Please review. I'll update prolly either way...//


	2. Contemplating Matters

A Crack In The Crown: Chapter Two: What Keeps Me Hanging On

I can't pretend everything makes sense. Oh yes, you've heard me correctly! The great Hermione Granger can't understand everything like everyone says. I'm tired of being treated like Virgin Mary. I feel like I'm living in a blank void where all I do is study, work, and succeed. I don't _live_. Does that make any sense? What keeps me hanging on?

I feel absurd for writing this, you see. I'm not the usual person you'd see with a journal (or diary, whatever.) in my possession. Its just not my style. Actually, since I've mentioned that…My style. Its nothing big, but I don't want the reputation like Lavender and Parvati have of being so girly. I don't want to be considered to strict that I become a Professor. I just want to have friends, learn and do something with my life. Make a difference.

My parent's taught me to work for what I want. Earn it with old fashioned hard-work. They taught me that jealousy is nothing more than cowardice. I desperately want to believe it, but I cannot. I don't things can do back to how they were. I wish it were that easy. I'm jealous of one person in this world. Not because he's powerful, incredibly handsome and charming, smart or rich. I'm jealous of my best friend Harry Potter.

Do you want to know why? Because in the only times I have failed to go beyond par, or even reach it, he pulls me up. He catches me when I fall. I'm not saying I want to take that away from him. Maybe I'm not jealous…maybe I'm just another admirer. Who knows? I can't tell anything about myself nowadays. Everything's just spinning in my head and I'm trying to sort out who's voice is who's.

You wouldn't believe how hard it is. Nobody can know how it feels! I've searched and searched for ways of understanding it myself, but that's not exactly relatively possible, I'm afraid. The clues I must pursue, I often think of it as. You know its amazing how much I think even when I sleep! I wake up and think I'm having a conversation with Harry or Dumbledore.

This summer, I haven't contacted Harry or Ron. I feel really cut off form the world which is stupid on my part because I'm the one contradicting myself for it. I'm going to write tomorrow for sure. Ha…speaking of writing…I was actually (seriously) thinking of writing to Draco Malfoy. Oh crap! It's nearly 3 a.m. I've got to run…I'll explain everything tomorrow. Whoever might get to read this…thanks for listening, but I'm afraid you've only been exposed to the beginning of what I dare say will be a fairy-tale hell.

// Did you like? I know nobody's reviewing but I don't care. REVIEW! I'd like it so much.// 


	3. Magical Diaries

Thanks for reviewing fashion diva. And note…all things are revealed in due time.

Draco Malfoy was once again outside at an ungodly hour writing in his journal. He was sitting on his bedroom balcony fighting his senses to want to sleep, and turning to rely on his nocturnal ness. He opened his journal to the next blank page. He wasn't this far after one night of writing… He looked at the last entry, found it wasn't his, and felt his mouth drop in horror.

August 19th

I can't pretend everything makes sense. Oh yes, you've heard me correctly! The great Hermione Granger can't understand everything like everyone says. I'm tired of being treated like Virgin Mary. I feel like I'm living in a blank void where all I do is study, work, and succeed. I don't _live_. Does that make any sense? What keeps me hanging on?

I feel absurd for writing this, you see. I'm not the usual person you'd see with a journal (or diary, whatever.) in my possession. Its just not my style. Actually, since I've mentioned that…My style. Its nothing big, but I don't want the reputation like Lavender and Parvati have of being so girly. I don't want to be considered to strict that I become a Professor. I just want to have friends, learn and do something with my life. Make a difference.

My parent's taught me to work for what I want. Earn it with old fashioned hard-work. They taught me that jealousy is nothing more than cowardice. I desperately want to believe it, but I cannot. I don't things can do back to how they were. I wish it were that easy. I'm jealous of one person in this world. Not because he's powerful, incredibly handsome and charming, smart or rich. I'm jealous of my best friend Harry Potter.

Do you want to know why? Because in the only times I have failed to go beyond par, or even reach it, he pulls me up. He catches me when I fall. I'm not saying I want to take that away from him. Maybe I'm not jealous…maybe I'm just another admirer. Who knows? I can't tell anything about myself nowadays. Everything's just spinning in my head and I'm trying to sort out who's voice is who's.

You wouldn't believe how hard it is. Nobody can know how it feels! I've searched and searched for ways of understanding it myself, but that's not exactly relatively possible, I'm afraid. The clues I must pursue, I often think of it as. You know its amazing how much I think even when I sleep! I wake up and think I'm having a conversation with Harry or Dumbledore.

This summer, I haven't contacted Harry or Ron. I feel really cut off form the world which is stupid on my part because I'm the one contradicting myself for it. I'm going to write tomorrow for sure. Ha…speaking of writing…I was actually (seriously) thinking of writing to Draco Malfoy. Oh crap! It's nearly 3 a.m. I've got to run…I'll explain everything tomorrow. Whoever might get to read this…thanks for listening, but I'm afraid you've only been exposed to the beginning of what I dare say will be a fairy-tale hell.

Draco read and re-read it three times then thought he was delusional and continued with his entry.

August 18th 

I've just opened up this journal and found myself reading an entry by none other than the brain of Hogwarts, Hermione Granger. This might sound a little off, and believe me, it feels that way to me, but she either wrote in here on purpose, by mistake, or she has no clue. This could be dangerous for both of us. I mean…what if she read what I wrote? Worse, what if someone got hold of her diary? She'll know my feelings…but I know her's now too. 

I wonder if I should owl her and say what's happening? I wonder if she's reading this now-

- Draco tries repeatedly to erase the writing, but he failed.-

Sorry, I tried to erase it but it wouldn't work. I've just thought, I could go back to the store where I bought the book to see if its magical. I mean…Its worth a try right? If that doesn't work then tomorrow I'll owl her. I've honestly got no choice now though. Granger- if you're reading this…Don't mention what's happening just yet okay? 

Not much to update on. Mother took a trip to London today and she's expected back in two days. I'm not sure what venture she's on, but I do know father's still in Azkaban. I'll write after I get back from Diagon Alley. Hoping this is all a dream. I'm just a little bit disconnected righ tnow, so I guess I'll go…I feel really dizzy. It's late though, so that must explain it. Goodnight, reader…and if you're reading this too Hermione.


End file.
